Three Wishes by Isabelle

He slumbered. For millennia, no doubt. But when he woke it was always to the same rumbling, the deafening crackle of magic like thunder, the stretching of his body to infinite proportion as it squeezed him through a space too small for him to fit, before making him whole again. The space around him came to focus slowly, dimly lit shadows dancing in flickering torchlight, fading fast, a single breath from extinction.

And like a passing sandstorm, they faded, clearing his vision, leaving behind only the shape of men and women, deathly still, crushed beneath the rubble. They’d come for his treasure. For gifts and talents unattainable. At a cost none could fathom. And like most, they earned nothing but a spot among his collection of bones.

The vacuum of silence exploded, as his sense fully returned, only to realize that the stillness of the room did not match the wet gurgling sound echoing against the cavern walls. He frowned, crossing his gargantuan arms over his chest, looking for the source of such desperate gnawing and froze when he saw it.

At the foot of his looming shadow, a small, suckling child sat, it’s tiny mouth pressed against the handle of his golden lamp.

An Ideal Friday Night by Isabelle

“Well,” he said, making sure his sigh was a loud, exaggerated masterpiece, in case she happened to miss the point. “Here we are again.”

There was a long pause before she snickered. “We’re nothing if not consistent.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. Yup. He rolled his eyes. As usual, she missed the point entirely.

Kaleidoscope by Isabelle

Color Splash from Polyvore.com

It’s true what they say: you can’t miss what you don’t have.

That’s why I didn’t understand it at first. All the hype about your soulmate, and what a big deal it was to find them.

Everyone said it changed everything. But what did I know? All I’d known my whole life was a monochromatic landscape. I didn’t know what I was missing… until I met her. Until the day we bumped shoulders at the little coffee shop on Main Street and she blew my world wide open.

Powerless by Isabelle

Her feet slapped against the smooth stone floor. Each step a heavy thud as she dragged her body forward. The sound echoed against the empty walls, harsh in the silence.

The candles had long burned out. Only the moon filtered through the portico, offering a wash of silver light.

She stopped when she came upon the great statue, and fell to her knees.

Sea of Stars by Isabelle

We were the last of the pure race. A straggling group of humans traveling among the stars, looking for a place to call home. We never settled on any of the terraformed planets- like so many of our species- though it wasn’t for lack of space. Every week The Winged Herald reported over the wireless that a new moon or dwarf planet had been transformed into a habitable environment for the heartbreakingly finite number of human refugees.

I used to dream about what life would be like in those colonies. A life that mimicked Earth’s old routines before everything went nuclear: school, farming, government. What would it be like to wake to the warm light of a star shining through my bedroom window, signaling the day? Or to dig my fingers into the wet soil and plant foods that would grow in an array of colors more brilliant than the nebulas?

I would never know.

It’s Coming…

After years of silence and hiatus, Lisa and I are thrilled to be returning to Fiction Fridays!

*Woot woot!*

I know I can safely speak for her when I say that writing our pieces of flash fiction has always been such a fun side project for the two of us, a great way to stretch those writing muscles and to jump into stories or ideas that perhaps we were afraid to expand upon until we actually wrote them down – and loved them!

We are starting slow, just to make sure we can really give it the care it needs as we get back into the swing of things. You well get one story from each of us (2 stories total) a month for the time being. My first will post on January 12th. Lisa’s will post January 26.

Join us! Maybe you have a hankering to try your hand at something short and creative. Share it with us!

We can’t wait to see what awesome, creative things we can explore together! 🙂

There Was a Knock on the Door

Image by Dot Myl – Google Plus

Hello dear friends and imaginative travelers!

We regret to have left you at the Tree alone for such an extended period of time. We thought of you often, and despite our best efforts to return, the Door to the Tree eluded us, busy as we were fighting monsters in our path.

But if you’re here, if you’re listening… we’re knocking.

We’re writing.

Where will 2018 lead us?

Come along. Let’s find out.

Forged Through Fire by Isabelle

Welcome back to Hollow Tree, dwellers! As many of you likely know, the second book to my Guardian Circle Series, The Guardian’s Choice, has released! For those who have read the series thus far, you know that I’ve been telling a small bit of the untold, behind the scenes story right here on Tales From the Hollow Tree, involving two of the lesser known characters.

The Earth and Air Guardians first met in Dream Walker and now we get another piece of the puzzle with Forged Through Fire. Enjoy! 🙂

by hworks at stock.xchng

She watched him work from the shadows, hidden within her Element, exploring him as she could not in flesh. Her stomach fluttered, a cluster of butterflies eager to break free from their cage. He pounded at the red-hot metal of a steel blade with a large mallet, his naked back and shoulders slick with sweat. She traced the ancient script of his Mark with her eyes, from his neck down the length of his spine, stark black against the warm caramel of his flushed, sun-kissed skin.

His muscles tightened with each mallet swing. The four walls of the tiny, sweltering workshop quivered, ready to buckle, to bow to his power. 

Temporary Hiatus

Hey there Hollow Tree dwellers! Given the inconsistency of our recent posts, and Lisa and I’s inability to be 100% present during these reckless summer months, we have decided to take a temporary hiatus. We’re thinking late September, when things slow back down.

That doesn’t mean the tree will be abandoned. We’re currently lining up some exciting guest bloggers who will regale you with tales from their own brilliant imaginations and we will let you know who and when as slots fill up. If you’re a writer and you’re interested, please let us know! We’ll schedule you! 🙂

Meanwhile, enjoy the sunshine folks. And we’ll see you when the leaves start browning.

The Rebellion by Isabelle

Lana waited for the search light to make another round, counting down the sequence she’d committed to memory. Rubbing sweaty palms on her thighs, she straightened her shoulders, crouching low for the run.

“Get ready,” she called behind her.

3-2-1.

They rushed across the abandoned plaza and ducked into the sharp angles of the building’s entryway. Jo’s feet were solid lead, banging on the concrete, her breath a frantic pant behind her. Lana waited for the sirens, her heart in her throat, her body tensed for another run. The army never came.

There was only silence. Silence and the sound of Jo’s hysterical breathing.

“Think you could breathe a little louder, Jo?,” she bit over her shoulder. “I don’t think the guards quite hear you.”

“Nick said he’d be here.”

“And he will.”

“Then where is he?”

“Maybe he’s running late.” Lana cupped her hand above her eyes and pressed against the glass. Everything within the building was still dark, only shadows and moonlight dancing in slow circles across the stark white tiles.